


The Gift

by luverofralts



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-28
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-05-16 22:19:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5843137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luverofralts/pseuds/luverofralts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set ten years after wizardsnake's More Than Blood, Obi-Wan prepares for the fifteenth birthday of the Skywalker twins on Tattooine, only to discover that one important present has been stolen. Who could have taken it, and what does this mean for the Jedi it was meant for? A short, not too serious multi-chaptered story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [wizardsnake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wizardsnake/gifts).
  * Inspired by [More Than Blood](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5786938) by [wizardsnake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/wizardsnake/pseuds/wizardsnake). 



The box had sat untouched in the back of the closet for years. Few knew it was there and even fewer knew of its contents. Ten years ago when Obi-Wan and his newly formed family moved into this home, the box had remained a secret that the former Jedi had shared only with his trusted spouse, and former clone trooper escort, Rex. Over the years, the number of people who shared in this secret had expanded on a need to know basis, and then only in the vaguest of details. There would be many in the universe who would steal the box and its contents, had Obi-wan not been discreet, and use it for evil, or sell it for the considerable amount of credits that it would surely fetch to an interested buyer. Though he could sell it himself and live comfortably for several years and still fund the growing Jedi order that he had spent a decade building from the ground up, Obi-Wan had never even entertained the thought. It was under his protection only; it belonged to some one else.

Finally after over a decade of waiting, it was the appropriate time to open that precious box once again and pass on its contents to its proper owner.

Tattooine had been the home of Obi-Wan, Rex and their four adopted daughters for as long as the new Jedi Order had existed. After the events of Mustafar, and the successful elimination of the Sith's attempted rise to power, the previous Order had crumbled. Order 66 had been carried out, killing thousands of Jedi, and making a serious attempt of the lives of both Obi-wan and Yoda. The council had fallen to Sidious and Vader's blades, and a generation of younglings had been lost in the carnage as well. It had taken Obi-Wan several years, the dear friendship of Bail Organa, and the love a of good man to even begin to shake off the devastating losses he had suffered, and even longer to begin to his efforts to reorganize the Order he had so loved once before.

There had been considerable resistance to the idea. Many remaining Jedi were as shocked and jaded as Obi-Wan had been, astounded that their Order had been blinded to such a seemingly obvious Sith Lord, and made such a commitment to a war that had simultaneously broken the spirits of the Jedi who fought in it, and forever tarnished the image of the Order among the Republic. Some survivors, like Obi-Wan, still maintained some celebrity for their heroic actions during the war, but overall, the Jedi had become the punchline to a bad joke they themselves helped set up. It had been hard to argue the Order's rebirth to embittered, and betrayed remaining Jedi, let alone the public who had watched the Order burn from the inside, victims of their own lack of vision.

Still, Obi-Wan knew that the rise of a new generation of Jedi was inevitable. Each year, new Force sensitive children were born and would need the guidance of an older, more experienced generation to guide them in their journey with the Force. Certainly without guidance, more Force sensitives would tumble down a dark path, and cause even more problems for the universe than the Jedi Order ever could. It was partially in this spirit that Obi-Wan had taken in his girls. See'ra, Esrai and Riva had come first, later to be joined by little Karis. They had all been orphaned and as in need of a family as Obi-Wan himself had been. He and Rex provided vital training for their developing Jedi skills, but more importantly, they provided a stable, loving home. In the many years, the girls had come far in their training, surpassing Obi-Wan's secret hopes for them. The youngest, Karis, was twelve now and already attempting to convince her parents to allow her to leave the nest early in order to pursue dreams and adventure as a padawan. Her older siblings had branched out as teens to help out the recovering Order, but Obi-Wan's heart simply couldn't accept losing the familiar presence of his youngest, or think of how empty the halls of their home would be without at least one of their precious children running through them. Watching Karis mentally prepare her arguments for rushing off into adventure and the great unknown made the former Jedi master feel as old as the universe. Had he ever been this young and impulsive? Surely his dear old master would gladly tell him about his past enthusiam had Qui-Gon lived, but life had quelled any wild desire in Obi-Wan now. Too often had he seen young padawans rush in unprepared to battle. Too fresh in his memory were the lightsaber burned corpses of younglings left by Darth Vader. The universe was a dangerous place for those who dreamed of exploring it.

Still, both See'ra and Esrai were out in that same universe making memories, and learning for themselves the mysteries of the living Force. The worry he felt every day they were out of his sight made him want to drink. Now in her twenties, See'ra had spent her teenage years following quite literally in her father's footsteps. Everywhere Obi-Wan had gone, she had followed like a shadow. Every meeting, every argument with other Jedi survivors, See'ra had been there for, watching and learning the art of the Great Negotiator. Obi-Wan had too often felt that she had been the padawan he had never been assigned, and when a new council and Jedi code was established, he had made it official. For her efforts in assisting her father, and upon demonstration of her considerable skills, See'ra was made one of the first Jedi Knights of the reformed Order, to Obi-Wan's extreme pride. Hell, Obi-Wan himself had been knighted for less. He had nearly embarrassingly teared up during her knighting ceremony, and later wept openly in Rex's arms in privacy. Emotions he had never felt for Anakin during his padawan years threatened to burst through Obi-Wan's much cherished calm. Anakin had been a padawan; a brother. See'ra was something else altogether.

When she moved out, Obi-Wan lingered whenever he could in her old room. Rex had often teased him, but the Jedi warrior who had endured war and heartache, was kept up at night with fears of his daughter not eating enough, and bringing home strangers her fathers would not approve of.

Esrai's absence had been easier to tolerate, knowing that she was at least under the watchful eye of fellow Jedi. Whatever her father had not been able to instruct her on, Esrai picked up in several classes held in the new Jedi temple on Coruscant. Her loss had been gradual, spread over the course of weekend classes, then semesters abroad, until finally she had been approved to become a padawan learner. Even if Master Yoda himself had become her master, Obi-Wan would have protested her leaving. So it had fallen to Rex to both comfort his husband, and guide his daughter to the right master. Everyone who had volunteered for the job simply wasn't good enough for Obi-Wan's exacting standards. They were too inexperienced, too jaded, or simply too inept to properly guide Obi-Wan's precious daughter and after failing Anakin so badly, the once confident Jedi master was cautious to take her on as his own learner. He had learned from his experience with Anakin, and had guided a much older See'ra with success, but Obi-Wan was hesitant to take on another padawan. To lose his daughter like he had lost Anakin would surely be a fatal blow. Besides, he was much too busy with his other children to just focus on the studies of one of them.

After many sleepless nights of tolerating his spouse's neurotic worrying, Rex took charge and called in a favour from the only Jedi he would ever trust with the care of his daughter: Ahsoka Tano. Winning her back to the Jedi had seemed impossible during the war, but after the disaster of the attempted Sith takeover, and fall of the old Order, Ahsoka had slowly begun to build trust in the future of the new Order. There was still some reluctance on her part to trust Obi-Wan, since just as her master had before her, Ahsoka too often saw Obi-Wan as part of the council and therefore, part of the problem. Her grief over Anakin's troubled loss, and close friendship with Rex had gone a long way to repairing her relationship with Kenobi, and her mortification when she accidentally caught Obi-Wan “inspecting” his favourite clone had guaranteed that she had begun to see the former Jedi master in a new light. Though she had struggled with the idea of taking on a padawan of her own, eventually Ahsoka had agreed, and Esrai couldn't have been happier. These days the two girls were in every corner of the galaxy, working to rebuild the Order, but still dropped by for family dinners and long, embarrassing talks about a much younger Kenobi.

Fortunately for Obi-Wan's nerves, Riva was a bit of a homebody. At sixteen, she was just starting to take an interest in the greater universe. A year older than Luke Skywalker, and only a short drive away from him, the two were inseparable. Their closeness had convinced Rex that Luke would take after his father and try to elope with the girl, but so far the clone had no evidence to prove a romantic relationship. This did not stop him from using his many skills to gather intelligence, however.

Obi-Wan instructed both Riva and Luke on the Force in their home, along with young Karis. While Luke and Karis dreamed of adventure, and exploring the galaxy, Riva preferred to read. Her passion was knowledge, and all too often, she reminded Obi-Wan of the stern guardians of the Jedi library. It was a common sight to see Luke working away on a speeder engine, while Riva reclined on the ground next to him, lost in her datapad.

“Master Obi-Wan?”

The young voice, breaking slightly with the onset of puberty, broke Obi-Wan out of his thoughts. Standing cockily in the doorway, Luke Skywalker appeared to be waiting to the best of his ability. His constant fidgeting, and bored expression all too clearly betrayed his paternity to Obi-Wan. Too many times had the master lectured the student on focus, and patience, only to now have to repeat these lessons on Anakin's son.

“Master Rex says that Leia should be here any time now. Her ship landed safely, and he was going to meet her.”

Obi-Wan fought the urge to frown. It would surely set the boy against him, as his father had whenever Obi-Wan had scowled at him, but....For all of his natural skill, the boy simply didn't listen to any authority. His Uncle Owen had nearly given up trying to teach the teen the farming business, and Obi-Wan had repeatedly clarified that simply being married to Obi-Wan did not grant Rex the title of Master, or when Luke was especially intolerable, the title of Mistress either. The embattled Jedi decided on this special occasion, he would take the higher road, and only correct one of Luke's many mistakes.

“Your sister is to be addressed as Her Royal Highness Princess Organa when she arrives,” he chided. “You are not a child anymore, and must respect what is proper. A great deal of trouble can be avoided in life if you are respectful of the culture of others.”

As surely as if Obi-Wan had traveled nearly thirty years into the past, familiar blue eyes rolled in defiance of the Jedi.

“'Kay.”

Luke disappeared from the door, and out of Obi-Wan's sight before more lecturing could take place. The old master closed his eyes, inhaled deeply and counted slowly to ten. He would learn from his mistakes with Anakin and lead Luke into a proper adult relationship with the Force, and an understanding of the way it held all living beings together. Perhaps this was the wrong day to open the box after all. Perhaps another day, much further in the future.

Sighing, Obi-Wan bent and scooped the wooden box from its hiding place. It was tightly sealed with a Force responsive lock that would open only with the proper command. This meant that the box was safe from the hands of non-Force sensitive treasure hunters, and would prove a difficult challenge to any of his Jedi children. It had been his main defense against Anakin's prying as a teenager, and had safely guarded many of the Jedi's more....sensitive items in the past. Of course, he strongly suspected Anakin had finally broken the lock on one occasion, after seeing his apprentice skulking out of his quarters, looking red faced and mortified. Served him right for snooping.

Obi-Wan ran his hand over the top of the box. It had been a while since he had held it, but something seemed amiss. It felt lighter than it should have. Obi-Wan gave it a cautious shake as not to disturb the item inside, and heard nothing.

_Shit_.

His heart pounding, the Jedi commanded the lock and wrenched open the box. The breath caught in his throat as he stared into the empty chamber. Gone. It was _gone_!

Obi-Wan slumped against his bed, mind racing. How had this happened? When had this happened? Had he been so careless that an intruder had passed into his home unnoticed? Tattooine was more than a little rough in certain areas, but to rob a Jedi Master of a treasure only a handful even knew about?

By the time he heard a speeder pulling up to the house, Obi-Wan had very nearly destroyed his bedroom, looking for the smallest hint of what had happened. There was simply no trace, no disturbance, nothing.

Rex entered the home with excited voices. A princess and her twin brother loudly joked around, the sounds of light rough housing reaching Obi-Wan in his despair.

“The birthday girl and boy are here!” Rex shouted. “And they're ready for that cake you promised!”

_Rex, something has gone wrong._

No sooner had Obi-Wan thought the words, the clone burst through the bedroom door, blaster at the ready. His eyes accessed the situation. Distraught husband curled against the bed, and enough personal debris to suggest either a desperate search or an attack. Seeing that his spouse was unharmed, Rex reached for the Jedi's hand and pulled him close to him.

“What in the hell happened here? Was there a break in? Should I tell See'ra and the girls to delay their arrival? Are we in danger?”

The Jedi shook his head, while watching the hall for listening ears. Riva and Karis were leading the twins through the kitchen, looking for the birthday cake that Obi-Wan had not finished making. 

“I don't know what happened,” Obi-Wan said at last. “It appears that we're the victims of a robbery. Nothing was left behind, nothing is out of place, and they only took one item.”

He gestured to the open and quite empty box that lay on their bed. Rex's eyes widened, at once realizing the seriousness of the situation. 

“It's gone then.”

Obi-Wan nodded.

“Some one has stolen Anakin's lightsaber.”


	2. Chapter 2

“How did this happen?”

“That doesn't matter, why did you take it in the first place?”

Obi-Wan tried his best to summon a more peaceful state of mind. The penetrating eyes of his fellow Jedi seemed to bore into his very soul, demanding answers he simply didn't have. Ahsoka and See'ra were now physically present, the rest of those few Jedi Obi-Wan trusted were present only in holographic form. The theft of a highly secret and equally guarded item from under the careful watch of a Jedi Master was a troubling thought-much too troubling to ponder it alone.

“An item like that should be in the archives,” See'ra concluded. “The lightsaber of the Chosen One? It should have been preserved for future generations.”

Obi-Wan hoped desperately that his beard hid his deep cringe at being rebuked by his daughter.

“The archives? Are you serious?” Ahsoka scoffed. “That item almost helped bury the Jedi. It wiped out an entire generation of padawans,and tried to set all Force Sensitives against the government. It should have been cremated along with Vader. There is no need to tie it to Anakin.”

An uncomfortable silence fell among those gathered as it always seemed to whenever Anakin was mentioned. For as devastating as it was for Obi-Wan, it had nearly crushed Ahsoka, and was a sore subject for nearly every Jedi whenever the Chosen One was mentioned. Anakin had saved Obi-Wan's life at the end. He had been himself and no Dark Lord of the Sith,of that Obi-Wan could never doubt. However, only he had been on Mustafar to see this change, and Anakin's guilt had been publicly seared into the walls of the temple with the very lightsaber that was now missing.

Ahsoka hadn't believed him when he told her of her former master's seduction to evil. She had sworn at him, thrown things even. She had been every bit as defiant and protective as Anakin had trained her to be, and yet Obi-Wan had been forced to watch as all of the good she held on to drained from her eyes in the shadow of Vader. Over and over she played the security recordings, looking for a reason,looking for her master. Now her memories of Anakin were as corrupted as everyone else. Obi-Wan had been the victor of Mustafar in the public eye, and Sidious and his corrupt government the villain. Where Anakin fell in all that mess was something hotly debated. To Obi-Wan, Anakin was a victim of murder at the despicable hands of Darth Vader. Two separate and incompatible people. This thought soothed any feelings of guilt and horror on Obi-Wan's part; how others chose to remember his padawan was none of his business. He had spent Anakin's life attempting to look out for the boy, the need to protect him in memory came automatically.

“Why cremate it, when there is a living heir training to become a Jedi,” he argued, earning some nods in the room, as well as some nervous glances. “This is an order that has been reborn from the mistakes of the past. Attachment defines our place in the galaxy. Surely the boy deserves to connect with and honour his father through an item of attachment.”

“Luke seems perfectly happy to limit his education in the Force,” See'ra said. “Last I heard, he was planning on applying to the Republic's piloting program. He may not even want this remembrance of a father he never knew.”

“And who had a hand in making him an orphan in the first place.”

Ahsoka had certainly not lost her brashness over the years. Time had matured much of her passionate objections, but just as Anakin likely would have, his student often forgot when to hold her tongue. 

 

There were no more arguments over Obi-Wan's choice of keeping the lightsaber- at least none voiced aloud in the meeting. Unfortunately, there were also no more reasonable suggestions on how to progress. Those with connections to underground markets would put feelers out to see if the lightsaber had surfaced, while Obi-Wan would attempt to ferret out anyone with the ability to pick or force the lock on the box. While that had sounded like a firm action, the Jedi had no idea on where to start. Rex maintained a stable and secure household on a rough around the edges planet like Tattooine, and very few people even knew about the box in the first place.

Mindlessly feeling for the familiar bulge at his side, Obi-Wan tried to picture the lost saber in his mind, feeling for any trace evidence that would hopefully lead him to the item.

He remembered all the many trying times he had scolded Anakin over the blasted thing. Years of begging and training just to build the revered weapon of the Jedi, and Anakin would leave it behind in class. Or break it when distracted. Or throw it at a wall when he was upset. As the master of the Chosen One, Obi-Wan had long suffered jokes and criticisms on Anakin's inability to maintain his weapon,all while simultaneously claiming to be a better swordsman than Master Yoda.

But then came the war, and everything changed. One lightsaber made it through the battles, and the anger. One lightsaber hung at the side of the man who hung at Obi-Wan's side. One blade defeated the enemies of the Republic, and forged a legacy that would still linger even in the darkness of Vader. That weapon was Anakin's life, and years of tolerating bratty behaviour, and blood stained war camaraderie had made it Obi-Wan's too.

Oddly enough, Obi-Wan found himself missing the comforting reassurance he had felt when he believed the saber to be safely within his protection. He missed it. No, that wasn't it. Not fully. Protecting the weapon had in some small way felt like he had once again been protecting Anakin. Knowing that it was tucked away safely had allowed him to dream of a world where he could be happy with Rex and their girls, while Anakin was just out of sight following his own dreams. Raising his own children.

It was a grave marker, something for Obi-Wan to latch onto and project all of his conflicting feelings on. A promise that he could still be tied to his padawan, even when the last few remnants of their mental bond surrendered to the suffocating emptiness of death.

And he had lost it.

What would Anakin say about this turn of events? Something snarky and irritating no doubt. And Master Qui-Gon? Both he and his precious Chosen One had died in Obi-Wan's arms, victims of Ob-Wan's inexperience.

Why he-

“Do you think my father would be proud of what you've done?”

Startled from his thoughts, Obi-Wan searched for the owner of the voice. There standing in front of him was the ghost of Padme Amidala. Beautiful, regal and exuding deep strength, the fifteen year old Princess before him was the very image of her mother as she had been when the Jedi had first encountered her on Naboo. How he wished Padme could see young Leia follow in her footsteps. Luke was his father's son, and would be a Jedi like his father, while Leia was all Padme. Her diplomacy, and courage radiated through her daughter with remarkable strength.

“Hmmm?” Obi-Wan found himself struggling to recall just what it was the girl had asked him. The Princess looked frustrated, but repeated her question politely, and with all the tact of her mother.

“Do you think my father would be proud of what you've done?” she asked, eyes never diverting from the older Jedi before her.

Obi-Wan frowned. What would Bail think? Of what? There was very little the senator and Obi-Wan didn't see eye to eye on.

“Has Senator Organa expressed some displeasure with me?” The idea was more hurtful than Obi-Wan cared to admit. He and the senator had always been close.

A flush crept around Leia's otherwise unreadable face.

“No, not my father,” she corrected. Her eyes darted to the floor, unable to meet Obi-Wan's. “My...biological father. Do you think he would agree with the decisions that you've made, the direction of the Order?”

It was as if someone had punched the Jedi in the chest, knocking all the wind out of him. Leia met his eyes again, searching for an answer that Obi-Wan had no idea if he had within him to give. He stood frozen to the ground, his mind racing, but continually drawing a blank.

“Yes,” he said at last. He didn't sound convincing. Suddenly all the awkward sex talks he had given his girls seemed like a walk in the park. “Both Ahsoka and I think of him often, and I would hope that his influence on us helps guide our actions.”

Leia nodded, processing this.

“My parents speak often about my mother, but never about...him,” she said sadly. “They blame him for her death. She was their friend, and he was the great betrayer of the Republic.”

If there was a hole somewhere that could swallow him up, Obi-Wan prayed fiercely that it would find him quickly. He had prepared his speech about Anakin for Luke when Luke one day stopped dreaming about the stars and assumed his destiny as a Jedi, but it felt empty when faced with the sincerity in Leia's eyes. She deserved more than a metaphor, more than Vader's supposed murder of Anakin. She deserved the truth, but all Obi-wan had were lies and consolations. He honestly didn't know the truth himself.

He must have nodded, since Leia sighed slightly and resumed the careful mask inherited from her mother.

“Sorry Master Kenobi. If you could see him again, I'm certain Master Skywalker would be proud of all you've accomplished. It's not my place to question you.” Her formality seemed to falter slightly under the weight of such doubt Obi-Wan could hardly believe he hadn't noticed it before. “I wish I had had the chance to know him as he was. As everyone knew him. He always seems so different from what people say to me.”

With that, the Princess quickly exited the room, leaving a flustered Obi-Wan behind to wonder just what precisely had happened. It was natural for the girl to wonder about her parents, especially one so controversial as Anakin. Just what she had been seeking from Obi-Wan, the Jedi couldn't be sure. Confirmation that her father had been happy, carefree and fun to be around? He had once. Proof that Anakin had slaughtered countless innocent children, and been the cause of his own wife's death? He had been that too. There were so many different ways Obi-Wan felt about his apprentice, different even from how Ahsoka saw him, and Bail, and Rex. There was no easy answer to give the daughter of such a man. Suddenly Obi-Wan was incredibly grateful that Luke had never given him such a loaded question before. Hopefully by the time the boy grew curious enough to ask, the Jedi would have a better answer to give him.

And have found the missing heirloom that had started this stressful day.


	3. Chapter 3

In the end, there was cake after all. While Obi-Wan had held his conference about the stolen lightsaber, Rex had attempted to mix together the ingredients the Jedi had left behind into something edible. The final result looked nothing like the picture in the recipe book, and seemed in constant danger of toppling over. Despite his worries, the image of his favourite clone decked out in a borrowed apron and covered in flour made Obi-Wan's heart race. What he wouldn't give to have a little alone time cleaning off his husband...all while leaving the apron of course. Such thoughts had to be put on hold however, and a more appropriate cake purchased to feed the hungry masses assembled in the Jedi's kitchen. Twin cakes fit for the birthday of a princess and her brother were found in town to the dismay of Obi-Wan's bank account. Last minute quality cakes were just another item unfairly priced in the Tattooine markets. Rex's attempt at cake went to Luke, who as a growing teenage boy seemed to be the only person who found it enticing enough to try.

With Luke's gift now missing, Obi-wan had to scramble to replace it. One could hardly present an I.O.U as a gift, especially if there was never any guarantee that it would be found. Leia's gift had been a collection of her mother's speeches as a young queen, as well as some old holos that Bail and Obi-Wan spent hours compiling together. It had been fun reliving old memories with his friend, and they felt confident that Leia would be thrilled by the selections they had made. Without Luke's gift, Obi-Wan had quickly copied some of the files meant for Leia, and branded it a twin gift for his favourite twins. Feeling this still lacked the care and thought he had invested in Leia's gift, Obi-Wan persuaded Rex to part with an antique of his own. The clone still held many blasters from the war, some as trophies, some to protect his family, and some simply because he could not imagine himself without one. Rex had selected the smallest, least dangerous weapon, and taken out the ammo to give to Luke. One weapon for another one, though a blaster could hardly compare to the elegance of a lightsaber. Still, it was technically a relic of the Clone Wars, and would probably come in handy on the farm should Owen Lars approve of its use outside of decoration.

Luke certainly didn't seem to be disappointed in his gift, and even skimmed through some of the data Obi-Wan had copied for him before running off to pose with his new blaster in the yard with Rex trailing after him. The two boys seemed content to discuss the proper use of a blaster and the idea of setting up targets to hit, so Obi-Wan allowed himself the chance to relax. The dishes could wait. The kitchen was gradually emptying as Ahsoka, Esrai, See'ra and Karis all eagerly sought to watch Luke's lesson, while discussing the possible targets that could be made, and Riva had settled in next to Leia to look over her present. Surrounded by quiet readers and dirty plates, Obi-Wan took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and let the events of the day settle in his mind.

A sudden crashing noise interrupted his peace. For an awful second, Obi-Wan feared some mishap had occurred outside with the blaster and a trip to the hospital would be in order. Thankfully, when he opened his eyes, it was merely a broken plate on the floor, and not a reason for a very sincere apology to Owen Lars.

“Sorry,” Leia stammered and began heading towards the closet for a broom. “It was an accident.”

Obi-Wan cut her off before she reached the closet.

“No worries, your Highness,” he said. “Accidents happen. You shouldn't worry, least of all not on your birthday.”

She flushed slightly, but resumed her seat in front of her reading material. Obi-Wan retrieved the broom, and started to sweep up the pieces of plate from the floor. A Jedi's work was never done, it seemed.

“Your mom had such pretty hairstyles,” Riva said, zooming in on the delicate braiding and extravagant hair pieces Padme wore in a holo. “This must have taken forever to do in the morning.”

“I'll bet,” Leia agreed. She tapped her fingers absent mindedly on a nearby plate. “My own hair never takes longer than an hour for even the most formal occasions. I'd go crazy having to wear all that all day.” Her fingers stopped tapping and began to swirl clockwise on the table. The abandoned plate responded by standing itself in the air and beginning to turn in a direction that matched Leia's finger movements. The girl focused on the image of her mother, seemingly unaware of the movements her finger was inspiring the dish to make.

“Leia?”

Obi-Wan was astounded, but not all that surprised. Leia was Bail's daughter, but also a Skywalker, with all the natural Force sensitivity of her father and brother. Leia looked up from her holo image, sending the plate down with a sudden clatter. The princess' face flushed again in embarrassment.

“I'm so sorry,” she cried. “I didn't mean to. My control should be better than that.”

“This happens often?” Obi-Wan would have to speak to Bail about this when the senator came to pick up his daughter. An unwatched and uneducated talent could be a dangerous thing. Even weekend classes at the temple would be helpful in guiding Leia on the proper way to channel the Force.

“Sometimes,” the princess admitted. Her hand moved again and the plate resumed its standing position. Then, just as suddenly, three more plates jumped up, followed by two chairs, The table began to rock slightly, sending one of the holos of Padme crashing to the floor. “When I'm paying attention, it's a lot easier to manage.”

“I see.” This was a development. His next talk with Bail was going to be interesting.

“That's really good for not focusing,” Riva said. The plates and furniture settled back down once more, and Padme's fallen holo floated up from the floor into Leia's hand.

“Thanks,” she replied, “but I'm not really supposed to use my powers. Father says that some people still don't trust the Jedi after all the rumours during the war, and no one will take me seriously as a senator one day if they don't trust me. Too many people blame mind tricks and Jedi deception for their own bad actions.”

This was somewhat true, but Obi-Wan's heart still went out to Leia. Even when Palpatine's claims were debunked and shown for the lies they were, many people refused to trust the Jedi, Beings with god like powers, and few limitations could cause a great deal of trouble for the powerless. Anakin and all the other dark or lost Jedi was proof enough of that.

Still, it stung that even Bail had his Force sensitive daughter try to limit herself in order to make others comfortable. After his adamant support of the Jedi, Bail had been nothing but kind to Obi-Wan. He even brought him and Rex together again after the war. For the first time he could recall, Obi-Wan thought of his friend and found a frown on his face.

“That's...unfortunate. I had hoped we had moved past that over the years.” His frown deepened. “I'll have to talk to Bail about this when he arrives. No Jedi should feel restricted in their use of the Force simply because of the misplaced fear of others.”

“No! Please don't.” Leia begged. “I shouldn't have said anything. My father is just trying to protect me from small minded people living in a galaxy bigger than they can understand. He's very supportive of me learning to control my powers.”

“But not use them,” Obi-Wan pointed out. “A Jedi's strength flows through the Force. It cannot be controlled, only guided. You limit your own potential by hiding your gift.”

The well practiced mask fell from Leia's face then, and immediately Obi-Wan saw the strong resemblance to her more emotional twin brother. Her face became a mirror into the deep anger and resentment the girl had somehow locked up inside of her.

“I limit my potential?” she fumed. “That's all people want me to do! Everyone just wants me to follow in my parents' footsteps and become a senator. All people do is compare me to my biological mother, and how she was a senator too! What if I don't want to be a senator? What if I'm tired of people looking at me and seeing a dead woman I never knew, or the potentially dangerous daughter the royal family was foolish to adopt?”

She stopped only to collect her breath. Both Obi-Wan and Riva stared in shock at the girl they assumed they knew. Summoning years of experience as the Negotiator, Obi-Wan opened his mouth to respond, only to have Leia cut him off once more.

“And you? You're no different than anyone else,” she spat. “All you see in me is my mother. Why else would you assume that all I needed for my birthday was a scrapbook devoted to a woman I never knew and her career that I don't want? And making a big deal of giving me and Luke the same thing, when I know that you were going to give him something much different!”

Obi-Wan's mouth hung open.

“What? How did you- Did you overhear the council and I...?”

“You're such a hypocrite!” The princess Force shoved the holos to the floor, as well as several chairs. It was a tantrum that seemed all too familiar to Obi-Wan. Most padawans had their moments of rebellion, but Anakin's had been epic. Add teenage hormones to the mix, and simple frustrations became nightmares for masters. “I know you kept my father's lightsaber all these years, and now it's missing because of you.” She marched out of the kitchen towards the room she was sharing with Riva, pausing only to look back for a moment.

“I have a really good feeling that it's about to turn up again soon.”

That said, Leia left a stunned Riva and Obi-Wan to ponder her words in the holo scattered chaos of the kitchen.

“Were you really thinking of giving Luke their dad's ligthtsaber, and Leia some pictures of their mom?” Riva asked, and Obi-Wan found his face suddenly flush. Was there something he was missing? He had thought it was appropriate. After all, to all appearances, Leia seemed thrilled to be training to follow a political path. Having waited for a response for apparently too long, Riva rolled her eyes.

“Honestly Dad, sometimes you just don't get it. Do you even remember being our age?”

She slipped out of her chair and followed in the direction Leia had taken off in. Obi-Wan sat alone, his mind and kitchen in equal amounts of chaos.

 

“You think Leia took the lightsaber? How?”

Rex sat at the kitchen table while his husband angrily attacked the dishes in the sink with a cloth.

“I don't know yet,” Obi-Wan admitted, taking his frustrations out on a particularly stubborn piece of icing. “She's stronger in the Force than I'd previously thought. Perhaps strong enough to work the lock open.”

“It's a stretch to assume she knew about the saber to begin with,” Rex countered. “She's been living off world her entire life, and never once even walked near our bedroom on visits. I run a tighter ship than that.”

True. If it was one thing Obi-Wan valued about his husband, it was the sense of security that Rex had provided for their entire family up until this incident. No one ever had bested the clone's natural instincts before.

“No, but this feels different somehow.” The Jedi frowned. “She knew about our plan to give Luke the lightsaber. She knew it was missing. How could she know that?”

“Listening in on your council meeting?”

“No teenager could best the security my husband set up,” Obi-Wan teased, earning a smile. “I can't explain it. Maybe a Force ability? Flow walking perhaps. No, that's much too rare, even for Anakin's daughter.”

Obi-Wan finished his last dish and joined Rex at the table. While his mind raced away thinking of possible legendary attributes to assign to a largely untrained teen, another thought slowly began to dawn on the clone before him.

“How did she take the news that we changed their presents?”

Obi-Wan's frown deepened.

“Not well at all,” he admitted. “It wasn't that she received the same thing as her brother; she seemed insulted by the idea that she might want to follow in Padme's footsteps. Which is absurd, of course. She has her mother's gift for politics...and with that comes the kind of deception needed in a thief.”

Rex chuckled.

“I know you hate politicians, but to convict a girl of theft based on your own prejudices is absurd.”

“Padme lied for years about her relationship with Anakin without raising a single suspicion.” Obi-Wan folded his arms confidently, convinced that he had made his point. Rex countered by repeating the gesture.

“And so did Anakin,” he declared, “and they only fooled the Jedi. Even a mouse droid could have seen that relationship for what it was.”

Obi-Wan bristled at the jab, no matter how old the wound it poked at was.

“Still, the possibility remains. The girl was quite upset that we would bestow the lightsaber on Luke and not her. She has motive.”

Rex's face fell.

“She wanted the saber for herself? I thought she was determined to work in politics, not the Order.”

Obi-Wan scoffed.

“It was what Bail and I agreed on, yes,” he said. “Luke would follow his father's path, and Leia her mother's. A Jedi princess isn't needed on Alderaan, but a diplomat is.”

Rex stared at his husband, unable to process his comment.

“You and Bail decided?” he repeated. “I thought we had decided to give Luke the lightsaber because he was starting to show more of an interest in becoming a Jedi, that we knew him better and saw him more and would be there to instruct him. Now you're telling me that he's still obsessed with flying, but his sister who wants to be a Jedi, and you think is strong enough to steal from you completely undetected is better off as a politician? No wonder she was upset. Why wouldn't Leia make as great a knight as See'ra?”

“See'ra's not a princess,” Obi-Wan argued. “Leia has a natural gift for politics, as I've previously mentioned. It's not the same.”

“And if Luke showed the same talent? Would he be allowed to run for office, or is he forbidden because he's not a princess?”

Obi-Wan studied the man before him intently. This was a joke, right? Just ten minutes ago, they had been on the same page...well, in a manner of speaking. Why wouldn't anyone understand his argument? It was a position that he felt the council would have upheld before the dark times, and their forced re-branding. Each person filled the role they were suited for, and there was a demand for. Not every Force sensitive child became a knight, or even a padawan. There were plenty of spaces to be filled in less glamorous places such as the archives, or temple security. Those positions were no less important than a knight's position, only less publicized. Just as princesses served their own equally important, but separate roles in society.

“I'm only trying to be practical,” he said at last. “It would be a waste to squander her gifts and position in order to follow a whim. She needs to pursue the course she was born to follow, the one passed onto her by both of her mothers.”

This clearly struck a nerve in the clone. His face changed nearly immediately from skeptical to angry, and his familiar presence in the Force began to simmer in various tones of rage.

“Life doesn't always follow your old fashioned traditions, Obi-Wan,” he snarled. “After everything we've been through, after all that you've seen the Order become, how can you still hold on to the ideals that drove the Jedi into the ground?” His glare intensified. “Do you think that I am fulfilling the position that I was born to fill? Or maybe I abandoned my post, and my brothers to chase after a whim with someone above my station.”

Obi-Wan groaned, even though he knew that doing so would only dig him further into trouble. This old argument. After over ten years of marriage, this fight tended to pop up every year or so to rear its ugly head, and ensure that Obi-Wan was banished to sleeping on the couch for at least a week each time.

“That's different,” he groaned. “You know that's different.”

The clone scoffed.

“Different because it benefits you, or different because I have no real parents to be forced to mold my life on? Or is it because I'm not as important as a senator or a princess and can be allowed to waste my potential?”

“No,” the Jedi groaned. He knew where this was heading. Where it always went.

“Or because you think I'm replaceable,” they finished in unison. The look Rex gave his husband was colder than a blizzard on Hoth. This was always where Obi-Wan's bias and Rex's insecurity over the cruel perception some Jedi had held on the personal identity of each clone went. Eventually it would lead to heartfelt apologies and fantastic make up sex, but the Jedi didn't have time for this to run its natural course. A thief had to be apprehended, and a lightsaber recovered. The course of a girl's life may change. He had to have his partner at his side to support him, and at best, he was looking at least two days of stony silence from Rex. With the look on the clone's face at the moment, possibly more.

“Please Love,” he pleaded, attempting his most sincere apologetic expression. “I need your help on this one. You know that's not how I meant it. I have never seen you as anything but the spectacular man that you are.”

Rex's face never changed, despite the Jedi's efforts.

“If that were the case, then we wouldn't continue to have this argument,” he said icily. “Maybe you're right about the girl after all. Maybe she does have the incredible perception and powers needed to see right through your facade of empowerment in just an afternoon. Me? It's taken over ten years.”

“Don't be so dramatic,” Obi-Wan sighed. “From my point of view it seems-”

Rex stiffly to the doorway, cutting off his husband with a dismissive hand gesture.

“Why does it always come down to looking through certain points of view with you? Why can't anything just be the truth?” Looking through the doorway, the clone's eyes focused on the young teens still attempting to hit targets outside. “I'll be out with the people who are honest about their feelings if you need me. General.”

With that, the clone stormed out, leaving Obi-Wan alone once more with his thoughts, Rex only addressed him as General during certain heated moments, or when he needed to make sure his husband understood that he was deeply in trouble. This was clearly not an instance of the former. Obi-Wan had been stormed out on twice now in the span of an afternoon, dug himself deep into a pit of marital trouble, and come no closer to recovering the lost lightsaber. Great. This was just great.

 

The rest of the evening was passed deep in meditation. Seeing as he had alienated almost everyone in the house aside from Luke, Obi-Wan decided to resign from family activities for the night. It had been his hope that meditation would bring some much needed clarity, but each peal of laughter, and squeal of enjoyment that filtered through the floor only weakened his focus. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves without him, which deeply hurt, but wasn't surprising. It was during times like these that Obi-Wan found himself remembering his first years as a knight, and the long nights he had stayed awake staring at the ceiling. Missing his mentor, his friend, and watching over a sleeping child who on a good day merely seemed to resent him. It had been hard to find his footing, but eventually he had figured it out. His padawan grew, and his late night anxieties soon turned to worries about serving on the council. Of watching his friend and former padawan lose himself to fears of his own. After the war, circumstances changed, and lying in Rex's arms at night, the Jedi had stared at a different ceiling, worrying about four new children, and the progress of yet another Jedi council. Rex had been quicker to adapt to their new life, while Obi-Wan continually worried. Was he still a Jedi? Did he even want to be? Was he a good father? How much of the Code could he bend and break until he found himself wandering Anakin's path?

On days like these, the Jedi wasn't sure if he could be truly honest about the answers to those questions. So many times what he thought was right ended up hurting people. Too many times Rex or the children rolled their eyes at him and called him old fashioned. The code had been such a large part of who Obi-Wan had become, and its traditions so ingrained in his thoughts that some days it felt like every criticism about the old ways was a direct attack on him. This was a galaxy for a dreamer like Master Qui-Gon, who would have thrived in the freedom that Obi-Wan found bewildering.

Obi-Wan continued to attempt meditation until he heard footsteps on the stairs and tired farewells in the hall. Owen came to pick up Luke and Ahsoka and Esrai headed back towards their ship for the night, promising to stop in before they left in the morning. Riva and Karis stumbled into their rooms, kissing Rex on the cheek before turning in. Finally, Obi-Wan heard his bedroom door close, and then lock as if Rex's decree that he stay on the couch hadn't been clear before. Everyone was tucked away, leaving Obi-Wan as much quiet as he needed for his long night of staring at the ceiling.

He walked to the living room, grabbing a blanket from the closet on his way. Nights on Tattooine were cold, especially when he spent them alone. Propping several couch cushions at the end of the couch, Obi-Wan wrapped himself up in his blanket and resigned himself to his ceiling watch. The clock on the wall chimed at midnight. 12:30 came and went. Then 1:02.

Obi-Wan began running scenarios in his mind. An apology for Rex, along with some flowers? Those were so absurdly expensive on Tattooine, and all too cliché. Dinner out? Maybe a massage.

And then there was the speech to Bail to work out. Something that might get him to question Leia's sudden knowledge of her father's lightsaber, while also working in the stigma surrounding the Jedi that Leia had mentioned. That would have to be addressed.

While thinking of a delicate way to broach the subject, Obi-Wan heard the familiar sound of a girl's laughter. He rolled over to look at the clock. 1:47. Who was up at this time? Karis, maybe?

Leaving the couch, still wrapped in his blanket, Obi-Wan crept to where the laughter had come from. There sitting outside on the back steps of house was Leia, her back to him. Immediately the Jedi cursed his laziness. He had not heard Leia leave or go to bed with the others. And now here she was talking to someone, unaware of Obi-Wan's presence.

“And then Luke missed all the targets I set up,” she giggled to an unseen audience. “Then I said that if he flunked out of the academy as a pilot, then he could have a great future as a stormtrooper!”

She held a comm in her hand. Was that it? Was someone calling and feeding her information?

His curiosity got the better of him, and all too late, Obi-Wan realized that he was loudly broadcasting his emotions through the Force. Sensing this strong emotion, Leia quickly turned around and pocketed the comm.

“Master Obi-Wan!” she exclaimed. “I didn't hear you come in. I can get out of your way if you need something from here.”

She attempted to casually walk to the door, but Obi-Wan blocked her way.

“I came to check on you,” he said. “This is an awfully late time to be awake for someone of your age.”

The blush on the girl's cheeks was evident even in the pale light of the three moons.

“Well, I couldn't sleep,” she admitted. “I had a lot to think about.” She shifted her weight from foot to foot. “After talking to my father, I've decided to apologize to you. He made several good points, and I realize that I may have been unfair to someone with your...background.”

So Bail had been on the comm. Well, that saved one awkward conversation tomorrow. Obi-Wan studied the girl before him. She did seem to be sincere. It was like a transformation had occurred and the angry, jealous girl from before had disappeared, to be replaced by a confident, almost glowing young woman.

“Well, I too feel that an apology is in order,” Obi-Wan stammered. “I may have been overly hasty in my assessment of your abilities, and more than a touch...out of date.” He smiled when he saw her positive response. “When the lightsaber does turn up as you suggested it might, perhaps there can be a dialogue with your parents and I about whom it belongs to, and its future use.”

The girl positively beamed.

“I would like that very much,” she said. “After a long talk and careful consideration, I feel that my place truly is with the Jedi, and not the senate. Nothing would give me more satisfaction than to have your blessing, Master Kenobi.”

“Then you have it,” Obi-Wan declared. “but only if you tell me just how you stole the lightsaber in the first place. Or even knew of its existence. I simply cannot figure it out.”

Leia's face was a strange mixture of resentment and amusement.

“Of course you think I took it,” she said. “He told me you would, even if you couldn't figure out how.” Smiling, she removed her comm from her pocket and left it on the steps in front of Obi-Wan. “I don't have it, or know where it is. He only showed it to me once.” She stepped around Obi-Wan, taking the blanket he was holding for herself. “As far as I know, it was never stolen, just borrowed to teach you, and me I guess, a lesson. When he decides I should have it, I have a feeling it'll turn up.”

Obi-Wan stared, dumbfounded.

“Who?” he demanded. “Who took it, and how?”

Leia smiled mischievously.

“He always did say you were a slow learner. Good night, Master Kenobi.”

With that, the girl took disappeared into the darkness of the house. Losing no time, Obi-Wan scooped up the abandoned comm from the steps and eagerly peered through the last few numbers it had connected to. To his surprise, the comm wasn't even turned on. Impossible! He had heard Leia talking to someone, and never once had she made a motion to power the comm off. Once it powered on, the call logs were nothing extraordinary. Several to Bail, two to Luke, and one to Obi-Wan's own house line.

Then who was she talking to, and how did they disappear quickly enough to trick Obi-Wan into thinking it had been a call?

The Jedi slumped on the stairs, worn out by the day he'd been having. This morning he had been certain that Leia would become a senator, Luke would grow into the expectations that Obi-Wan had had for him, and that occasionally, this old Jedi master still knew the way the galaxy should work. Tomorrow he would begin his search to find a master to train Anakin's daughter, help encourage Anakin's son to use his talents to become a better pilot, and figure out the most romantic way to apologize to his husband, and earn his way back into his own bedroom. With all this to deal with, the search for the apparently non-stolen lightsaber seemed irrelevant. Leia knew who was responsible, and if she wanted her heirloom back, then Obi-Wan would leave it at that. His mind itched to know how his security had been bested, but years of battles, and both unexplained miracles and tragedy had taught him when to leave well enough alone. Perhaps one day, Leia would be kind enough to explain it to him. As for right now, it would just have to wait.

Obi-Wan was just beginning to stand up when he heard a sound he hadn't heard in years. A small silver cylinder was rolling on the ground, stopping purposely just before his feet. A lightsaber. A missing lightsaber!

Obi-Wan picked the familiar object up, looking it over for damage or clues. His heart soared into his mouth when he pushed on a button and the welcoming blue blade illuminated the night sky. He moved the blade around slowly, watching the light waver against the darkness, his mind and soul at once reliving all the times he had huddled around the glow of this saber in the dark of the night. All the times he had caught it when its owner fell. The way it crackled with the same intensity as the Jedi who wielded it. The relief he had felt when this blade saved his life on Mustafar. Memories and regret tore at the Jedi. Seeing it again...His heart filled with Anakin, aching as strongly for him as if he were standing beside his padawan once more. It was an object far too haunted for Obi-Wan to ever consider using himself, but strangely, he felt with startling clarity that it would be a perfect fit for Leia. As she grew in the Force, Anakin would live again through her. Not the image or replacement of either of her parents, but herself, leading the Jedi into a new future, while leaning on the lessons of the past.

“I hear you've been looking for this,” a familiar voice teased. Obi-Wan's blood froze in his veins, his heart exploding from the sudden pressure.

No. No, it couldn't be. But somehow it was. Standing before his old master was the translucent, but still ever so cocky face of Anakin Skywalker.

“B-But- How is this possible?” Obi-Wan stammered, running every teaching he had ever heard through his brain to try to comprehend this.

Anakin smirked that same old infuriating smirk and suddenly Obi-Wan felt his arm go numb. He was having a heart attack. That was it then, Anakin was here to guide him into death.

The ghost shook his head as though he knew what the old master was thinking. Of course he did, Anakin had always known whatever his master was trying to hide.

“You should know that death is never the end,” Anakin chided. “After all, you were the one to teach it to me. Every living thing returns to the Force, grieve not, miss them do not...You get the idea.”

Somehow Obi-Wan nodded his head and the ghost continued.

“Well, Master Qui-Gon and I were experimenting with the limitations of projection, and between the two of us, we stumbled onto this. He wishes you well by the way. He wanted to come, but I

thought that this was a talk that just the two of us needed to have.”

The name Qui-Gon burned common sense back into the flabbergasted Jedi. Of course his old master couldn't resist the natural boundaries of the Force itself! Everything that man did seemed to be out of defiance of any law committed to record. How like Qui-Gon to grow so unsettled in the Force itself that he needed to push boundaries. And to rope the equally insolent Anakin into it as well. Was this experimentation something they agreed to under take together, or had Qui-Gon proven how utterly easily seduced Anakin was and tempted him?

The thought of the two together, enjoying each other's company, laughing and problem solving gnawed a wound Obi-Wan thought was long healed. Was this the future he would have had if Qui-Gon had lived? The man who consistently told him that he wasn't good enough to take the trials until he had conveniently needed to be without an apprentice. The jealously Obi-Wan felt towards the nine year old boy who was more than happy to take his place at Qui-Gon's side had nearly ripped him apart. What if he had taken the trials and Qui-gon had trained Anakin? Would he have had to see them together, work with them, and remember how he had been so completely replaceable? The decades that had passed without his old master had concealed this wound so well that Obi-Wan had forgotten its existence, but the thought of _his_ apprentice and _his_ master working together, their temperaments so well matched to each other- Well it lead to a darkness even the untrained Luke and Leia could feel from the house. As usual, it seemed that Obi-Wan's husband was right, and that there was still so much anger in the Jedi that it easily could have been him that turned to Sidious' will.

Embarrassingly, this outburst was easily caught by the Chosen One's ghost, and Obi-Wan flushed in shame.

“I'm sorry,” he mumbled. “Lately all I seem to capable of is embarrassing myself in front of those I care for the most. Everything has changed so much, so quickly, that even though decades have passed in your absence, I fear that I am still the same, tired man who failed you.”

Anakin's eyes softened, but his infuriating grin remained.

“When I left you, I was but the learner,” he said. “Now I am the master.”

“And still just as humble as always,” Obi-Wan sighed.

Exchanging quips, trying to downplay Anakin's ego...this felt right in way that Obi-Wan had forgotten. It was like the war had never ended, and Anakin had never died. Like Obi-Wan still didn't wake up screaming some nights for all the things he'd seen. In all his years, he never thought he'd yearn for the days that the war dragged on without its abysmal end.

“We've all done things we're not proud of,” Anakin commented, absent mindedly floating a nearby rock with his hand, just as easily as his daughter had lifted plates and holos. “Some people more than others.”

Obi-wan nodded politely, unsure of the correct thing to say. Was there a correct response to acknowledge the depths of Vader's crimes? It was probably more acceptable simply to leave them unspoken. An awkwardness fell between the two old friends that seemed impossible to bridge with mere words. A gap this large would have to be mended over the fields of battle, trusting each other with their lives, or at least frequent meetings for caf, where each offense could be debated until the both of them were sick of blaming the other for what had broken their friendship. For what had broken the galaxy itself.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat awkwardly.

“So you, uh, stole the lightsaber then?”

With something else to focus on, Anakin beamed.

“It wasn't stealing,” he corrected. “I'd call it 'returning to its rightful owner'.” Another smirk. “And you can hardly call it stealing, with the same combination protecting it as you've always used to hide away what you don't want to be found. It was practically begging to be taken if only to get you to change your passwords once every decade or so.”

Rex would be thrilled to know that his security was vulnerable only to the dead. To beat the clone's security, a thief had to give his life in the process.

“Well, I've certainly gotten your message loud and clear,” Obi-Wan declared. “Nearly everyone has taken the time to illustrate exactly how old fashioned and utterly wrong I've been about everything. It seems that I may still be clinging to the ways of the past, when I need to follow Master Qui-Gon's teachings and embrace the ever changing Living Force.”

“You seem to be doing just fine moving on in some areas,” Anakin laughed. “I couldn't believe it when you - _you-_ decided to marry a subordinate officer and have a family! I nearly died all over again! And Padme hasn't let me live it down for a second. We were so good at keeping secrets of our own that she claims to have a second sense now for when others are hiding things. She didn't guess Rex, but she figured some nice gentleman had caught your eye.”

If the sand beneath him could swallow him whole, Obi-Wan urged it to do so now.

“Padme?” he recovered finally. “She is …?”

“One with the Force as are all living things,” Anakin finished. “It wouldn't be much of an afterlife with only the Jedi to populate it.”

“And she....” Obi-Wan trailed off, unsure of how to phrase his question without seeming terribly rude.

“She and I talk, yes,” Anakin confirmed. “That's part of why I'm here. We're worried about our children's futures, of seeing them live full lives without dealing with the...legacy of their parents. Sure, things are different now between her and I, how could they not be?” Anakin looked at the ground in the same, shamed way Obi-Wan had. “I think it's going to work though. It might take until the day the twins come join us, but I think it's going to work out.”

And Obi-Wan somehow found himself hoping it would as well. During the war, during his life up until it had nearly ended, Obi-Wan would have been horrified by a happily married Jedi father. Now, it seemed to be becoming the norm. Not only the norm, but the ideal situation to receive the proper love it took to walk the path of a Jedi.

“I will do everything in my power to give your children the future they deserve,” he vowed. “Bail as well. They truly are amazing children, and Rex and I are grateful to have them in our lives.”

Anakin nodded gratefully.

“They really are,” he acknowledged. “I've only been able to appear to Leia so far, but she is everything that I hoped she'd be. Better even. Teach her everything you once taught me, and I guarantee that she'll actually put it to good use. Don't be afraid of what happened to me. She is filled with a light that needs to be encouraged.”

“And Padme doesn't feel rejected? Politics run strongly in the Organa family, as well as Padme-”

“Padme wants what our daughter wants,” Anakin interrupted. “Her political career will stand on its own, without the need for our daughter to highlight it.”

“Of course. Obviously.”

Silence fell between them once more. If they were decades younger, they may have separated then to meditate, or go over battle plans, or catch an hour of much needed sleep, knowing that they would reconvene later. Separate missions may have meant a few weeks apart, only to be followed by late night dinners in battleships, catching up on everything that had happened. To pass wisdom on how to train padawans. To quickly ask about how Rex was performing on missions before anyone discovered his interest. To find a moment's joy in a galaxy that seemed joyless.

But this was different. Here was Vader-scarred Anakin, asking Obi-Wan to look after the children that he was killed before he could see. Here was the man that had nearly ended a thousand generations of Jedi in an attempt to save one woman from his nightmares. Here was the translucent body that betrayed just how fragile Obi-Wan's connection to his apprentice truly was. Today Anakin would leave, and just as when the boy he had raised had died in his arms, Obi-Wan would be left with the empty void in his heart where Anakin had once resided.

“You will of course be monitoring the twins' progress, then?” Obi-Wan asked hopefully.

Anakin smiled the smile that Obi-Wan had once desperately wished for- the smile of a man contented to follow the will of the Force no matter where it led.

“Of course. Some one has to keep an eye on you guys. And Obi-Wan?” Anakin's voice caught slightly. “Consider taking Leia as a padawan. I know that I may have...ruined that experience for you, but I think it may benefit you both. But only if you want to, of course.”

Everything in Obi-Wan screamed in fear at the idea, but he at least would mediate on the possibility. Thinking on it would hurt no one, after all, and he was always free to decline.

“Will I see you again?” he asked, trying not to betray the loneliness and nostalgic longing that beat in time with his heart. “I'd like to be better prepared for next time, if so. I'm getting on in years now, and my heart isn't quite as prepared for sudden shocks.”

“Maybe,” the ghost replied, eyeing the the silver of Obi-Wan's hair and beard. “But as you said, you're old and decrepit now, and you may just be joining me in the Force before I can make it back here.”

Obi-Wan scowled, making the ghost of his apprentice laugh. If only this was the way they had ended things all those years ago. Some good mannered teasing, then each of them retiring back to the spouses and children they loved.

“I miss you!” Obi-Wan blurted out before he could stop himself.

The suns were rising ever so slowly behind him, and to the Jedi's dismay, the fuzzy translucence that now composed Anakin was beginning to fade the stronger the light became.

“I miss you too,” Anakin answered. “I'm sorry again for everything I've done. I have always been grateful to have been your apprentice.”

Morning sunbeams began to fill the yard. Obi-Wan didn't dare blink in case his eyes lost track of the quickly fading outline of his best friend. Soon, the ghost who had so suddenly haunted him was no more than a shimmer of light.

“I'll be watching,” called a disembodied voice. “Change your passwords too, old man! I can't be the only one who can break them. Frankly, it's just embarrassing for a general of your class.”

With that, the glare of the two suns broke through the haze that had once been Obi-Wan's closest friend, leaving Obi-Wan alone, clutching a silver cylinder in his shaking hands. The Jedi slumped to the ground, unable to continue pretending that he wasn't devastated by the sudden reminder of everything that he had lost. It was all too much to consider. Anakin and Qui-Gon working together, Padme seeing through the wall he thought had hid his desire for the forbidden- all of it. If he had been decades younger, and the war and betrayal of the Jedi still fresh in his mind, this visit may have rendered him speechless for days, sobbing over the friendship he had lost; the Order that had vanished overnight. But he wasn't still young, still grieving. Obi-Wan was a married father with the responsibility to guard the Jedi Order and the children that Anakin had left for dead. He had a partner and support, and the memories of his apprentice that would never leave him, no matter how old he grew.

So like the Jedi master he truly was, Obi-Wan stood up, collected himself, and entered his home with renewed purpose. Lightsaber in hand, he strode confidently up the stairs to the master bedroom, used the Force to move the door lock so that he could enter, and threw open his closet door. Rex bolted awake, reaching for any number of weapons he kept near the bed for security, but Obi-Wan quickly stopped him with their emergency all clear signal, a useful relic left over from the war.

“Anakin!” he declared, as though the still angry, and completely baffled clone could understand him.

Curiosity overtook the anger in the clone's face.

“Anakin,” he repeated, as if simply saying the name was a magic spell that would grant him the clues to whatever it was that Obi-Wan was saying.

Once more, Obi-Wan reached for the discarded box that had begun this problem in the first place. The lightsaber still fit as perfectly as it had the last time it had rested there, gleaming in the morning light. Obi-Wan took one last look at the weapon, and closed the box again, this time using a different Force signature to lock it, now that he knew some Skywalkers had been able to crack his last one. For a brief moment, Obi-Wan hugged the box close to him, gathering all of the pain, and happiness the blade evoked in him, and released it into the Force. For the first time in years, the Jedi felt an unmistakable confidence that this truly was the path he was meant to walk and that things would always lead where the Force needed them to go. With a wistful smile, Obi-Wan placed the box back into its hiding place, and then joined his husband on their bed. Rex seemed hesitant at first, their argument still fresh on his mind, but something seemed strange enough about his husband's behaviour that curiosity won over his justified anger.

“You found the lightsaber,” he noted, as Obi-Wan snuggled up beside him, clearly mulling something important in his mind. “Was it Leia after all?”

“You wouldn't believe me if I told you,” came the reply, and calloused fingers stroked absent-mindedly up and down the clone's arm. “You were right, of course. The lightsaber will go to Leia. Next year though. No beginner apprentice starts out with a weapon that dangerous after all. She might lose an arm trying to use that.”

The words sunk into the sleepy clone's mind, and he gave his husband a congratulatory squeeze, for finally coming around to what should have been common sense. The two held each other close, their bond humming loudly with a contentment that Rex would definitely demand an answer for. Later though. For now it was merely enough to hold the Jedi that would always baffle him, in some way or another.

“Well,” he said with a smirk. “It took you long enough. I'm always right, after all.”

Closing his eyes after a tiring night, and reaching out into the Force to touch all those he had lost, Obi-Wan found he couldn't disagree.

 


End file.
